


Software Update

by Cantique



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Reader-Insert, but maybe smut later, gender neutral reader, idk - Freeform, kind of crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 07:42:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8570074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantique/pseuds/Cantique
Summary: You genuinely can't believe no one on the Overwatch team spare for Hana and yourself is aware that there's a videogame about them, so it's your obligation to introduce them. But what happens when the game is down for seven hours due to an update?
--
So the new update is huge and I'm in Australia where the ETA is literally seven hours, so I'm trying to smash out a fanfiction before it's done. First chapter is an intro with a chapter each afterwards for each character. I'm trash. Reader is gender neutral.





	1. Introduction

"This is it," You log in to your account, the game booting up as you give a laugh. "I can't believe you didn't already know about this."

The four gather around your desk-chair, and for a moment you feel a little bit embarrassed. Hana knows you play in a regular office chair now. You've never seen her rig, but you assume it's much more expensive and fancy than yours. Angela pulls up the small foot-stool you have in your quarters, taking a seat next to you to watch, while Hanzo is content just standing to the side with his arms crossed as he watches. You wonder for a second where McCree is, but when you feel a weight on the back of your seat, you realise he's leaning against it, peering over your head.

"Didn't you guys wonder why they know so much about you?" Hana asks, tilting her head to the screen with a smirk. Honestly, you're not just surprised that no one else seems to be aware of this game, but that Hana didn't tell them about it earlier.

Mercy shrugs, glancing between you and the teenager. "Well, given that you're our engineering specialist..."

"I mean," you say, clearing your throat, the Overwatch logo taking up the screen as the game logs you in and finds the server, "I'd say the fact I've worked here for nearly two years now has a lot to do with it..." you pause. "...But the game might have helped. Just a little." You're saved by the familiar beeping of the game securing the server connection, followed by the swap to the main menu. A silence would have befallen the room, but McCree laughs.

"That meant to be Reinhardt?!" He all but guffaws over your head, shaking the chair a little as he does so. "Little bit flattering 'round the waist there, ey?"

"Jesse," you warn, quickly turning your head to glance at him. Satisfied that he got the message, you return to the game, opening the training menu. The character selection screen opens and Mercy audibly gasps. "So yeah," you explain with a somewhat dismissive tone, beginning to slowly scroll through the roster from right to left. "All of Overwatch is here. Some of Talon, too," you note when Reaper appears on the screen. "I mean, all of the field team, anyway. Us engineers and support team don't make for good gameplay, I guess."

McCree suddenly appears on screen and the cowboy behind you lets out a long whistle. "Now that there is one good lookin'--"

"Seriously?" Hana laughs from the end of your bed. You realise now that she's recording this. Great. You're going to be in a video called 'Overwatch Members react to video game GONE WRONG GONE SEXUAL' or something. Excellent.

He shrugs, and you look up to see he's grinning. "Lemme guess, I'm the most popular character?" The cowboy nods to himself before anyone can answer. "Can't blame anyone for that."

Hana gives a loud snort. "Actually, according to the devs, it's Lucio, then Genji."

"Ok," he grunts, eyebrow raised. "Third most popular is still-"

"Then 76," she lists off. "Then Angie and Phar--"

"Okay, okay!" He interrupts.

Angela suddenly looks to you, wide-eyed. "I'm that popular?" She asks.

You give a nod, scrolling the mouse over her portrait, Angela appearing on the screen, her wings expanding and causing the screen to glow. "Yeah," you admit. "Actually, I main you."

"Main?" She asks.

"I um..." you suddenly feel a little nervous. It's sort of weird, admitting this. Now that you think of it, anyway. "Well... it means I play your character the most..."

"They're really good, too," Hana chimes in. "If you guys gave them a little more free time, I bet they could hit Diamond ranking." She pauses, as if waiting for someone to ask, but then decides to explain anyway. "I'm Master rank. I'd be higher, but--"

"What about Hanzo?" McCree asks, talking over the top of Hana again. You oblige, your mouse moving over the archer's portrait. His reaction to himself in the game is no more than a grunt. "Well, lookit' that!" McCree chuckles. "They even got the grey hair."

Angela shifts. "Yes, their attention to detail is astounding," she agrees, glancing at you, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. "Even the wrinkles on your character's face were true to life, Jesse." She smiles to herself, not needing to look at him to see his reaction. She knows he's been sufficiently shut down. "Do many people play as Hanzo?" She asks, making an effort to involve him somewhat more, or maybe even make him feel better.

You give a nod, and open your mouth to speak, but Hana gets in first. "Yeah, he's pretty popular," she explains, "but Hanzo mains are the woooorrrsssttt." You wince, and the archer's sole response to this is yet another solitary grunt.

"I should probably play a match," you laugh, exiting out of the training screen and selecting Quick Play. "So you can see how it works."

"Quick play?" Hana asks. "Yeah, because character stacking is true to the Overwatch exper--"

"Hana," you warn, suddenly feeling a lot like you're babysitting everyone spare for Angela. You take a breath and by the time you're centred, you've found a game. "Ok, so who are we playing as?" You ask.

You feel the back of your chair move again as McCree shifts. "Well, I think that's obvio--"

"No, Jesse," you exhale. "There's already two McCree's-- er... there's two of you on the team. We don't need a third."

"That's debatable," he argues.

You rolls your eyes. "Well, they don't have a healer, and they have a Reinhardt but no one else is playing as Hana yet. So I'm thinking either Mercy or D.Va." It's all very confusing to you as far as what names to use.

"Oh!" Angela chimes with a smile. "Play as me!" She's genuinely excited, and it's honestly a little bit touching to see her so excited. You oblige, selecting Mercy, the screen fading out into gameplay.

"Okay," you explain, following the glowing line on the ground to the objective. "So this mission is a payload mission. My team's job is to stop the the other team from moving the payload to the other side of the map..."

The next half an hour passes quickly, the three watching as you play, Hana eventually vanishing and logging on to join you from her room. With the real Overwatch team watching on, the two of you wipe the floor in almost every match you play. McCree laughs and jokes as he watches, the odd genuine question thrown in. Angie watches in awe, beaming, somewhat enthralled by it all, and Hanzo... doesn't say anything. Just the odd grunt now and then.

Settled in and with Hana on voicechat, you're all getting quite into it, McCree even offering advice on how to better trash-talk those complaining about group comp -- the fact that most of those complaining were Hanzo mains gives him a lot to work with, really. Eventually, though, it starts getting late. Angela is the first to bow out, having some last minute paperwork to do before bed. Hana is next, a scheduled stream pulling her away, which also prompts McCree to leave. Leaving you and Hanzo.

It's... kind of uncomfortable. You say goodbye to McCree for the night and you both just kind of... stare at eachother. "So..." you start, unsure of where to go from here.

Hanzo nips it in the bud, though, finally speaking. "How do I play?" He asks.

You blink, pausing. "Sorry... what?"

"How do I play this game?" He asks again, gesturing to your computer. "I would like to try this."

"Hanzo," you say with a smile, a slight laugh in your voice, "I didn't know you played video games."

"Not anymore," he explains, "but in my youth, with Genji. They were not like this, though."

You nod, glancing between him and the screen, as though to make sure he was looking at the same thing you'd been playing this whole time. "Well, yeah, I mean, your quarters have a computer, right?" You ask. He nods. All the rooms on the Watchpoint have a desktop. "Well, mine's my own, but the standard one you have should play it fine. You just need to set up an account and download it."

He nods, taking it in. "Will you... play with me?" He asks. There's something surprisingly intense about this question, as though there's an intimacy to it you'd never considered. Maybe there was, now that you think about it.

"Sure," you assure him, "that sounds fun." You can't help but chuckle. "I'm actually kind of excited to see how you play." That's the extent of the conversation, really, and he leaves soon afterwards.

Over the next week or so you follow through, dropping by his room and helping him set the game up, and the three of you actually end up spending most of your free time playing. All in all, introducing everyone to the game was a good idea.

And then, one day, there's an update.   
It's going to take seven hours to download...


	2. Taking the Point (McCree/Reader)

Seven entire hours. You curse silently to yourself as you watch the Battle.net menu's update bar. Any other day you'd just leave it before work and play it afterwards, but this is supposed to be your free weekend. You _never_ get free weekends anymore, not since Talon managed to recruit that new hacker who has been wreaking havoc on MEKA's internal compilers and latency systems. Sure, the software is easy enough to fix with a quick diagnostic, but you're the one who has to re-calibrate them whenever Hana's back from the field.

It suddenly dawns on you that the new Talon hacker is probably the exact reason the game has a 10 gig update. They're introducing her. Great. What's her name? Comma? No, it's an S name... you wanna say Sasha? You can't help but sigh. Whoever she is, she's now making both the work and pleasure zones of your life difficult. God knows how she'll effect team comp...

You exhale and lean back into your seat. The cheap, fake leather sticks to your skin. It's a bit hot today. Or, well, not hot, but warm enough to make your room a bit stuffy. You've got other games, sure, but you were really looking forward to playing this week and...

"Well, well, well," a voice chuckles from your doorway, "when they told me you had the weekend off, I expected ya' to be playin' that game all day."

"Server's down, Jesse," you exhale, turning your chair to face him, your patience already very low. "Or, well, not down, but I can't play until this thing is downloaded and it's going to take seven hours." You close your eyes, squeezing them shut, bracing yourself already for the response to your next question. "Do you need me to fix something and how urgent is it?"

He doesn't respond right away, so you can assume he's making some kind of face. "Was just hopin' you could fix up this lil' wire in my arm," he explains. You open your eyes. He's twisting his arm a bit to show you what's wrong. A piece of the plating has fallen from the elbow joint, and one of the wires has come unattached, hanging out and dangling about. "I mean, it ain't urgent or nothin', just means I ain't got no feelin' in it. Winston can probably--"

"Jesse," you sigh, shaking your head. "It's fine, I thought you were going to tell me they needed me for field repairs or something big." You stand rise from the chair, wincing a little as the skin of your thighs peels from the leather, regretting shorts even despite the heat. "But after this you have to do me a favour and _order_  maintenance to turn the air conditioning up, ok? They'll listen to you."

"What?" He asks, a smile on his face as you lead him through your doorway and into the hall. "You don't like the heat?"

"No." You're blunt as you lead him through the halls and into your workshop. Well, it's more like a garage. And as soon as you get in you realise that without all the lights and machinery running, it's actually quite cool in there.

McCree watches as you flip on a lightswitch. "Maybe you should try gettin' out more, then. Ain't nothin' quite as nice as the sun bearin' down on your back, dust under your feet---"

"I get outside," you interrupt, leading him over to your soldering bench. "I'm on the dropship all the time. With you. Making sure things are working." You pull up a spare stool for him and gesture for him to sit, taking his mechanical arm once seated and inspecting the damage. "How did you even manage this?" You ask. "We haven't even had a call-out in two days."

There's a silence as you plug in the soldering iron. He looks just about everywhere but at you.

"Jesse," you warn.

"Look," he says, raising his palms at you in innocence, "I ain't the kind of man to shy away from an honest, old fashioned arm-wrestle." You raise an eyebrow. He's not lying. "I knew Zarya was strong, but--"

"You tried to beat Zarya at _arm wrestling?_ " Your voice is dripping with disbelief. "How did you think that was going to go, honestly?" He shrugs, and all you can really do is roll your eyes as you unwrap a coil of soldering wire and place it on your workbench. "How is it that you seem to get more injured when you're off duty?"

He smiles as you take his arm, inspecting the broken casing. "When I'm on the job," he explains, "I ain't prone to mistakes. Maybe you'd know that if you played me a little more in that videogame."

If you could roll your eyes back any further, you'd probably strain them. "Seriously?" You ask. "Are you being serious right now?" You pause, glancing to the soldering iron. "I can fix the wiring today, but I'll have to order in replacement plating. You'll have to be on medical leave until it comes in."

"That's alright," he assures you. "Honestly, Mother Russia there hit that new girl of theirs' head so hard that I don't think Talon will be rearin' it's head for a while." You take the wire, making sure it's just detached and not frayed or damaged. "But really," he continues, "what's your aversion to me?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I ain't no stranger to a computer," he explains, "I watched you on Hana's stream the other night. You played as everyone else except me."

You reach for the soldering iron and begin to melt the wire. "Not true," you correct, using one hand to hold the wire in place as you apply the solder. "I didn't play as Reaper."

He scoffs, watching your hands as you work. "I don't even play the game and I wouldn't expect that from ya'. But c'mon! Not even once?"

"I don't know what you want me to say, Jesse," you begin, waiting for the solder to cool before melting a little more to apply over the top. "It's just not my play style."

"Your play style?" He repeats. You can't help but notice the smirk on his face. You know McCree well enough to know that means trouble. "I 'dunno. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say you don't wanna play as me 'cause it makes you... uneasy."

"That so?" You're only half paying attention now as you closely inspect the way the wire is fixed to the connection point.

He nods, seemingly confident in his thoughts. "'Course. Most people get a little flustered when they're thinkin' of someone who gets 'em all hot an bothered."

You nearly drop the soldering iron and it takes you a second to regain your composure. "Jesus, Jesse," you gasp, trying to hide how red your face has suddenly turned by lowering it to better view his arm. "This thing is hot, can you not joke around for a second?"

"Who said I was joking?" You do your best to ignore this, but you have a hard time ignoring the fact that his knee is touching yours as you work.

You add a second layer of solder, the wire in place. "There," you sigh, trying to calm yourself, reaching your fingertips in and pressing the small reset button for a few seconds until the arm let out a gentle beep. "How's that?" You reach over and set the soldering iron back into it's holder.

You feel his hand on your knee and you freeze. "Feels alright to me," he announces, giving a squeeze. You turn back to face him and he laughs. "See? You're blushin'. Again."

"Jesse," you stammer, realising his hand isn't going anywhere. "You... I... um... this is..."

"Now," he interrupts, bravado in his voice, "I know you ain't the best when it comes to words n' expressin' your feelings n' everything, so how 'bout you let me take the lead here and you just tell me t' stop if I take it too far?"

"You can't be serious," you whisper.

"I'm deathly serious."

He leans in, his free hand reaching up to your jawline, fingertips tracing over it until they sit just at the bottom on your earlobe. You can feel his breath on your lips, and although you expect him to kiss you, he holds back.

"Y' want me to stop?" He asks.

"No," you whisper.

He smirks, your brows touching, your noses bumping against eachother a little. God, you've always thought he was good looking and incredibly charming but you never put enough stock things like this to even picture this. Now? All you want is to kiss him. Or for him to kiss you. But he holds back.

It's not until the disappointment in your eyes is apparent that he finally speaks. "Main me in the game."

"What?"

"Main me in the game," he repeats, the hand on your knee sliding up towards your thigh, the metal smooth against the bare skin of your legs. He stops at the hem of your shorts, but you kind of wish that he'd go a little further.

"Are you kidding me?"

Suddenly, the hand on your leg shoots up to your waist, his mechanical arm snaking around your lower back. Without any warning he pulls you towards him, all but scooping you from your seat and onto his lap, your chest against his, your legs straddled either side of his lap, leaving you sitting right on... _holy shit_. "Does it look like I'm kiddin'?"

He's grinning. He knows exactly what you want. He's fucking _playing_ you but you don't really care right now, because your head is swimming and--

"HEY!" A voice calls from the doorway of the workshop, causing you both to flinch. Hana calls your name and your heart nearly leaps out of your chest, given that things were intense already. "If you two are done making out, they fixed the server error and all the updates are done!" She giggles to herself, and you watch her walk away, not even waiting for your response. Oh boy.

McCree seems as shocked as you, and it gives you a second to break out of the haze he'd managed to throw you in. You raise an eyebrow. He doesn't get to order you around. He doesn't get to seduce you! That's your job! And you definitely don't want to main McCree, either.

You grab his collar in your hand and pull him to you, a sudden boost of confidence flourishing within you now that you know your weekend is saved. You kiss him, a long kiss, your hands moving to either side of his face, and while you worry you may have crossed a line for a second, the feeling of both his hands running down your waist assure you that this is okay. When you break the kiss, you smile to yourself, pulling back from him. "Git gud," is all you say before reaching up and flicking his hat off his head and onto the floor.

You stand up and leave without another word, deserting the cowboy in your workshop. You know he'll probably show up at your door soon, but you have some time before then. Enough for a game or two.

God help him if he interrupts you.


	3. Huge Rez (Mercy/Reader)

"Aren't you supposed to be enjoying your weekend off?" Angela asks, glancing at you from her terminal.

"Overwatch -- as in the game -- is down," you sigh, looking at some kind of biogenic specimen she has on display in a glass container. You check yourself -- it's probably not on display. It's probably growing. Or something. "I've got around seven hours to kill, give or take."

"You should go outside, then," she suggests. "Spend a day in the garden. If Genji is out there he can show you how to turn on the tree holograms. The weather is beautiful today."

You lean down, looking at something else she's working on. A leg? Arm? It's the base of some kind of prosthetic. "Actually, I'm kind of in work mode now. The game is how I wind down. I was actually wondering if you had anything that needed some of my expertise." You pause, shooting her a smile. "A bionic implant, a mechanical limb, a new weapon... a cabinet with a dodgy hinge?"

Angela laughs at this, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "If you wouldn't mind, I've been working on an upgrade for Symmetra. I think that I've managed to get the biometrics working, but I've been having issues with some of the wiring. Could you take a look for me?"

You nod, and she rises from her desktop, closing some kind of program as she does. She leads you over to a work-station, a shiny-looking cybernetic arm on a stand, the casing open, wires and circuitry on display.

Angela carefully opens a secondary part of the casing, displaying more of the insides of the device. It's an odd mix, some of the components are things you're familiar with, things you've seen from previous models and performing repairs of Symmetra's arm before. There are new things, though. A small core that emits a blue light, something with a blinking red fuse inside -- and unattached wires. Those, at least, you're familiar with. "I'm having trouble getting the processor to properly communicate with the command outlet," she explains. "I've never had this issue before. Perhaps you know what I'm doing wrong?"

You take a moment looking over the insides of the arm. "What exactly have you upgraded?" You ask. "The processor?" Angela gives a nod in the affirmative and you immediately know what the issue is. "You haven't done anything wrong at all, actually," you begin, reaching out and holding the responsible cord in your fingertips. "It's actually a manufacturer issue. Vishkar have been having some problems with their data cords lately. Sometimes they work and sometimes they just don't, but I've noticed that they struggle with anything developed in the last three months." You look around the lab. "Got any surplus cords from Zarya's gear?"

"Just a moment," Angela says before making her way to another workbench. She opens a draw, rummaging around and returning with a ziplock bag of wires and cords. "Here."

"Thanks," you open the bag and sort through, eventually removing a cord that, unlike the one currently installed in the arm, is covered in cord and metal. "Say what you will about Volskaya, but where Vishkar excel in minute details and accuracy, Volskaya can carry three times the load that Vishkar tech can." You place the cord in front of the arm, glancing to Angela, a small smile on your face. "You should actually be able to overclock the processor with that one and not have it fry. Just... don't tell Symmetra. She's very 'particular' about using Vishkar gear."

Angela laughs to herself, closing the casing and giving you a nod. "Thank you. That would have been a pain to work out myself." She pauses, eyeing you for a second, allowing you to take time to appreciate the prescription of her eyeliner. It's like everything she does is perfect, although the idea of Angela being perfection incarnate doesn't really strike you as anything but natural. "You know, I could definitely use your assistance around the lab," she offers. "Perhaps we can arrange for your roster to include some time here occasionally."

"Really?" You ask. "I mean, sure, if you think I could help at all."

"Absolutely," she insists. "I could definitely focus much more time on the biotechnology side of my work if I had a second set of hands helping with the technical aspects. And anyway, I imagine it will be nice to get out of that workshop every now and then."

She's not wrong in assuming that. Your workshop, while your own space, is somewhat removed from everyone else. It's on a basement level of the Watchpoint, so it can get quite hot when everything is running and the lights are on. Because you tend to work a lot more with mechanical tech, the workshop is kind of grimy at times, oil and grease leftover on the surfaces, dirt and scuffs on the concrete floors. It's not like Angela's lab, which is pristine and shades of white and light blues and gentle golds. "I mean, not that I hate my workshop," you say as she tilts her head, an active listener. "But it'd be nice to stretch my legs a bit."

"It's settled, then." The Doctor gives a decisive nod. "I'll speak to Winston about it when I see him next. I can't imagine him having any issue with it." She visibly withholds a giggle. "Hopefully you can still find time to play that game."

"If it ever downloads," you joke. She laughs at this. God, her laugh is something special. No wonder everyone on the internet is completely in love with her. God only knows what would happen if they actually met her in real life, what her smile would do to them, how they'd find a way to breathe after seeing the real thing in her Halloween costume this year.

"Do you still 'main' me?" She asks, smiling. If it was anyone else you'd probably deny it all, but you remember her face when she realised you were her favourite to play as, and part of you wants to see it again.

You nod. "Yeah, I do. I was actually expecting you to find it... kind of weird."

"Weird?" Angela repeats. "Why would I find that weird?"

Your best response is to shrug initially. "Some people would be uncomfortable with that, I guess."

Angela shakes her head. "No, I wasn't. Honestly?" She smiles a little, the smile that makes her nose crinkle a little. "I found it quite touching." You look to her for an explanation and she obliges you. "I watched how you played, and with the finesse you displayed, you must have been playing my character for a long time, correct?" You nod and she continues. "And I saw the way you smiled when my character's wings extended, at the beginning, remember? It was nice." She pauses. "May I ask why you chose my character?"

You lean your hip against the workbench, thinking this over. "Well, I suppose I've always gotten along with you, which helped. Not to say I didn't get along with the others, but you were always outwardly kind to me, even when I was a newbie on base. But the way you operate in the field?" You elaborate. "I just think it's cool. Everyone else is out there blowing things up and causing damage, but your prerogative is to help. The way you find yourself in a warzone devoid of compassion yet find a way to invoke it in your actions? How you put yourself on the line and expose yourself to terrifying things with the sole goal to help your team? And then you come back here, and when everyone else is taking leave or having three to four rest days after a big mission, you're in here developing upgrades, or you're in the medbay seeing to whoever's come home injured, or you're in straight-up surgery pulling a bullet out of someone. Most people aren't like that. You're like the actual embodiment of an angel." You pause and shrug, realising how much you've rambled on, a little embarrassed, trying to act dismissive of what you've said. "I just think it's special."

You look away, your cheeks burning a little, but after a moment you feel it -- something touching your hand. When you look to see what it is, you swear your heart might stop. It feels like time is standing still. Your hand is resting on the workbench, and her hand is on yours.

You glance up to her, your eyes wide, and she just smiles softly at you -- as though this is all natural. "How long have you felt this way about me?" She asks.

"A long time," you admit, exhaling what feels like all the air you have in your lungs. "But I just always thought you were out of my league, so I never thought--"

You're stopped mid sentence when she kisses you, and suddenly the universe doesn't exist outside of her. You never once thought this remotely possible, in fact, you never even entertained it because it seemed so unlikely that she'd ever look at you twice. She pulls away, her eyes still closed. "I only wish I had known sooner." No way. No. Way. "When I found out I was your favourite character in that game... I thought my heart was going to burst."

"So you weren't just dazzled by my gameplay?" You joke.

Angela smiles, opening her eyes and brushing your hair back from your face. "Well, yes. But I'm allowed to be selfish."

"Yes," you agree, your fingers lacing with hers. "You definitely are."


	4. Can You Swap Unless You're Secretly a Pro Hanzo (Hanzo/Reader)

"What do you _mean_ yours has already updated?!" You snap, leaning against the doorway of Hanzo's room, watching as he plays the game at his desktop. "We're on the same internet connection, how is that possible?"

He shrugs, his eyes not leaving the screen. "I sometimes forget to turn it off," he offers, "perhaps it began the download at a time when everyone was asleep."

You throw your head back, giving a groan. "Urrrggghhhhhh," you expel, allowing your head to flop to the side lazily. "This is..." you pause, giving an annoyed sigh. "Can I at least watch you?" You ask. He gives a nod, albeit a distracted one, and you move to sit on the end of his bed, which his chair pushed up against -- technically you were sitting beside him, really.

You have to admit that Hanzo has come a long way in a short time, although it doesn't really surprise you. He never goes into anything half-hearted, honestly. And although it's a bit weird to not see Hanzo playing himself, you're not really sure what to expect. You suppose playing yourself in a videogame would be a bit weird. Hana plays herself, sure, but she swaps characters so often that it's not really a thing.

Instead, Hanzo boosts himself up, firing off Pharah's ultimate, the rockets flying down and taking out two players. Not a bad effort, given how tight the game is. It's kind of strange seeing him playing a videogame. Hanzo has always seemed so 'old world' to you, like someone out of another time, the same way McCree feels like a time traveller to you sometimes. When you first accepted the job and arrived at the Watchpoint, though, you quickly learned that your first impression of most of the field agents was going to be inaccurate.

Hanzo has been no exception. Where you had expected him to be mostly stoic and serious, you learned as time went by that he was capable of descriptive feats, his secret talent being a keen ability to explain the most abstract of feelings and responses in the most simple and relative of ways. When the time called for it, Hanzo was as serious and centred as you would have expected, but that changed when it was him and McCree in your workshop or in the dropship, the little snipes at eachother all in good humour but enough to leave you in fits of laughter.

Hanzo's team wins the match, and although he manages to secure the play of the game, he doesn't win MVP. "Ungrateful," he mutters to himself, removing his hands from the keyboard and mouse. "I am glad that the field time is more thankful than the fictional version." He turns to you in his seat. "There is a new character, she was part of the update," he explains. "Perhaps you would like to try her out."

"Really?" You ask, eyebrow raised. "On your account?"

He nods. "I trust you will behave yourself." There's a beat, before a tiny smile appears in the corners of his mouth. "I could also use the experience points." He rises from his seat and you swap positions, you at the desk, Hanzo on the bed beside you.

"Thanks," you say with a smile, starting up a quickplay match. "This is really nice of you."

"There is always something to be learned from seeing a master at work," he says. You're touched by this, until he adds "and since Hana is not around, I suppose you will suffice." You roll your eyes as he chuckles at his own joke. At least you know he's as comfortable with you as he is with McCree now if he's going to make fun of you.

The character selection appears and you mouse over the newest portrait. "Ugh, really?" You scoff. "Her? The hacker?" You select her regardless, wanting to try out the newest addition to the game's roster.

"I was not aware you had encountered her," he says.

You shake your head as the game loads. "I haven't," you explain, "but the damage she consistently causes to Hana's MEKA is enough for me to dislike her immensely. She's made my job very, very difficult." The game begins and you make a beeline for the point, but decide to veer off to the side, taking one of the more secluded paths. You think that you can play Sombra effectively by using her to sneak up on the other team and surprise them, but you'll have to test this theory first.

The point becomes available and the game instantly becomes more aggressive than before, as per usual. You jump to the point, hacking a Reinhardt, disabling his abilities and therefore his shields. A D.Va on your team takes him out within moments and you decide that this is, actually, quite a useful feature. The irony isn't lost on you given how much trouble it causes you in real life.

Suddenly, you jump in your seat. Something brushes against your bare neck. No. It's air. You quickly glance behind you, but Hanzo sits at the end of the bed, merely watching you play. Weird. Must be a draft or something. You fix your attention back to the game, quickly putting the last shots in the opposing team's stray Mercy before she can fly to her teammates.

It happens again, but this time you can definitely tell it's someone blowing air against your neck. "Hanzo?" You ask, turning around quickly to raise an eyebrow at him. "What are you doing?" You turn back to the game just in time to avoid the Reinhardt's hammer, dashing into some cover.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says.

You want to argue this, but a Reaper sneaks up behind you and you quickly activate Sombra's invisibility, sprinting as far in the opposite direction as you can. Your gut instinct was right, and he unleashes his ultimate. The air rushes past your ear again.

"Hanzo, seriously, what are you doing?" You ask, not even bothering to turn back. He just chuckles at your protest. The anticipation of him doing this again is getting to you, and you can tell your concentration is wavering. You can't focus on the game, and find yourself mindlessly running straight into the thick of things because you're trying to figure out if he's going to do it again.

A Roadhog chains you to the side and you very narrowly manage to get out of the way and find some cover before he can finish you off. Air again. "Seriously!" You snap. "Can you at least tell me what you're doing?"

"Trying to distract you," he finally replies, plain as day. You have no idea why he'd want to do this but it's working. You manage to find a healthpack. He gently touches your shoulder, presumably to tickle you. You shimmy away from him and miss a few shots at Reaper because of it. You run back to the sidelines and manage to hack Reinhardt again, but you find yourself knocked back and into the air thanks to a Junkrat. He starts walking his fingers up your spine. This is it. This manages to knock you off pace so much that you don't even notice the cry of the enemy team's D.Va release her ult. You're out instantly.

You spin in your seat before the kill cam can even show you how you died. "What the he--" You stop yourself. His face is only inches from yours. You instinctively jump back, but he grabs you by the arm and falls back on to the bed, pulling you with him. You can't help it but give out a short squeal.

Part of you wants to be angry, but his laughter silences you. "Your face," he chuckles, "is remarkable when you're angry. Do you know that?" Even though you should still be annoyed, you can't help but find yourself laughing along with him. Something about it is almost infectious.

Next thing you know, he's kissing you, and the only other sound in the room is that of the game, which you have gone idle in. Not that you care right now, though. Your core feels tight, and even though Hanzo feels like he's from another time, this reminds you the flirtations of your teens. It doesn't stop. You don't want him to stop.

The mattress shifts as he shifts his weight on to one arm, leaning above you, his free hand tangled in your hair as your palms roam the fabric against his chest. The quickness of the kisses increase gradually until they become hungry, your breath short, your leg hooking over his hip without you even realising it.

He finally breaks the kiss, probably because you weren't as willing to, and you can finally catch your breath. The archer smiles, a thumb grazing over your cheek as he looks at you. "I prefer this to when you are angry, though," he admits. You deliver another kiss in gratitude. "Perhaps we should lock the door?" He asks. You nod silently, not wanting to move in case doing so somehow changes this situation that you didn't even know you wanted until now.

He pulls himself off the bed and makes his way to the door, clicking the lock. You glance to the screen. "Oh. Look at that. I lost the match," you joke.

He joins you back on the bed, crawling to you and looming over you this time, studying you for a moment. "It's only a game," he teases, his fingers beginning to toy with the hem of your shirt.

"Well, you know what they say," you muse as you feel the pads of his fingers slide under the fabric and brush against your bare skin. "Hanzo mains are the worst."

He smiles, kissing you, teeth grazing against your lip. "I think you will change your mind soon."

You're logged out of the server for inactivity.


End file.
